Cannibal beat his wings, preparing to take flight. Sunfyre turned to check the saddle straps securing Aemond, who had nearly been shaken senseless on his back-he had to make sure his little burden had not come loose-then followed close behind.
Sheepstealer brought up the rear with a limp, his crooked horns swaying, while Grey Ghost vanished into the clouds once more, as though he had never appeared.
Halfway along, Aegon suddenly reined Cannibal in.
He turned his head, his gaze passing over the crowd on the beach, over Vaemond's livid face, over Joffrey being helped up by the guards, over Laenor still sobbing against Seasmoke-
Until it landed squarely on the tall man in sumptuous sea-blue robes who had returned to the shadows of the stands behind the crowd.
"Oh, one more thing, Uncle Corlys."
The man did not move. But Aegon saw the fingers gripping his silver seahorse brooch turn white for an instant.
"This was an oversight on my part." Aegon's voice brimmed with sincere apology-the exact same tone he had used when telling Laenor, "I'll give Sheepstealer a proper scolding when we get back." "I brought rather a lot of dragons. I wonder if Driftmark prepared enough feed for them in advance?
"If there isn't enough to fill their bellies, please don't stand on ceremony. Just remember to report it to my father. The Iron Throne will reimburse you..."
He paused, seemingly not quite satisfied, or perhaps suddenly remembering something else, and added one more boast in a tone as casual as if he were commenting on the fine weather.
"Luckily, I didn't bring Vermithor and Silverwing along too. That would have caused even more trouble."
With that, he turned back around. Cannibal flung his wings wide, his coal-black membranes seeming to blot out half the sunset's